Mixing The Palette
by Disney'sGurl
Summary: "Don't think of it as different. Or different people. Think of it as diversity. As mixing. Like mixing a palette of colors." Eight different kids with eight different stories in the 1950s. When Max, a teen confused of who she really is, starts an art club, she didn't expect to start a movement. Fax, Eggy AU AH
1. MAXINE & Fang

**Hey guys! Disney'sGurl** **here. If you want me to update another story, just vote on my poll, say it in your review, or PM me.**

**Please check out my other stories!**

**This story is set in the 1950s, where there was lots of racism and stuff going on. Each has a different story each and they all end up meeting up together in the end.**

**WARNING: This story contains racist words and comments such as, 'Shut up, black girl,' 'Look it's Hitler's son,' and such. If you are either part or fully American, Mexican, Native American, African American, Irish and/or German, and are easily offended by racist comments of these, it is not my opinion, just putting what kids would say at that time. All is not my view, and if you feel I offended you or a significant other in any way, I do NOT mean it. It is simply a story set on the views of these people. I'm a full American, and I don't feel offended in any way.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and this story will have no OCs, and if so, very minor characters. Thank you. **

**Note: This story will have two points of view every chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

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**MAXINE**

"What are you?"

"Look, it's the mixie."

"White or Mexican? _Please _do tell me."

"She shouldn't even _be _here if she's part Mexican."

"There should be a school just for mixies like her."

Just some of the things I had heard at my old school. My dad then found out, and sent me to the school across town. Washington High, a whites only school.

But I wasn't even sure if I was white anymore.

My mother is Mexican and my father white. She moved to here, Arizona, and she and my father had a secret affair before 'pop!' Maxine Batchelder was born.

Yipee?

No.

I took more of my father's side, so I looked fully white instead of Mexican, the only thing I got from my mother was a tan tint to my light complexion, and my chocolate brown eyes.

My parents were forced apart, my mom having my younger sister Ella, a full Mexican baby. She didn't have to worry about wondering if she was one race or the other.

I never got to really see her, because she was working in the fields with mom for going to the other high school, Lincoln High for Colored children.

I went to Drew High last year, an all white high school, and I finally told my friend Tess that my mom was Mexican. Turns out it was the wrong girl to tell. Soon it was everywhere around school, and it never stopped. Everyone would always joke. Ask. And whatever else they could to make fun of my race.

So now, here I am, starting over. I straightened out my blue poodle dress, wishing I were a guy able to wear trousers, and walked into the building. And nobody needed to know my mom was Mexican.

Not now, not ever.

* * *

Fang.

I ran out of Lincoln high as fast as I could. I knew the white boys from Washington would catch me, since they came out five minutes earlier than us and came to bully us. I finally ran past the bus when I heard a voice.

"Hey Indian." I stiffened, but walked fast. I knew they would follow me. I heard their feet. One white boy grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.

"Indian, do you understand me, or do was have to speak your language?" He said. I understood him, but I didn't say anything. He growled and shoved me against the nearby wall, me wincing as ain't collided with my head painfully.

"Answer me Indian!" He growled. I coughed.

"N-not. I-Indian." I choked out. He and his friends laughed, him shoving me harder against the wall.

"Then what are you? Huh?" He said.

"N-n-native Am-mercian." I whispered. He punched me in the jaw, and I felt the pain shoot up, wincing.

"Don't you even put the word, 'American' in your race. It might be, 'Native American' to you, but to us you're Indians. Don't even compare yourself to us." He spat, dropping me on the ground and kicking me in the gut before walking away with his friends.

I slowly got up, and grabbing my gut, I limped towards my reserve, hoping that tomorrow they wouldn't kick me as hard as they did today.

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Did you like it? Dislike it? Review, please! I really would appreciate it :)

~ DG


	2. JAMES & Eleanor

**Thank you for the reviews guys ^.^ To Slightlysane443, I reread my story, ad I agreed with you before un-bolding everything. So, yeah Fang is native American. I mean he has olive skin and in _The Angel Expirement _he had long hair before the makeover. So I just thought I should reach all ends of diversity in the US in the 1950's.**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: Ella only knows Spanish so far, and only knows simple words like 'hello' 'goodbye' and manners really. So in her head, she's speaking English so you can understand her, but in reality everything is Spanish. You'll get it...**

******Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and this story will have no OCs, and if so, very minor characters. **

* * *

******_JAMES _**

I coughed, waving the smoke away from my face with my small dusty blue rag. Even though I could get seriously sick, I had to make the money for my parents.

I was the only kid left.

Most of them moved, some stopped, and many got sick. The others, weren't as lucky. And it didn't help that I taught all the new kids what to do in this factory, so I knew all of their names.

America was the biggest lie.

'Its the American dream.' Lie.

'All of your dreams will come true.' Bigger lie.

'America is wonderful.' That could be considered a joke.

It was only wonderful if you were born wealthy and white. I mean, I was pale, but with my heavy Irish accent it was pretty hard to fake it. So I was teased relentlessly. Not that it mattered to any of the teachers. It was hard living in the south and only being known as an immigrant.

"James!" Mr. Griffiths, the owner of the factory yelled. I walked to him to see two kids, a boy and girl my age standing there. They both had blonde hair and blue eyes, looking like twins.

"James, this is Benjamin and Angelika Shmitt. Benjamin and Angelika, this is James McAuley. He will be teaching you how to work here. Now go." He walked off, and I glanced at them and their innocence. They knew nothing about the factories.

And I found myself wanting them to make it.

To make it with me.

* * *

**_Eleanor_**

I winced as I bended yet again for another bundle of grapes. I tugged three times before they popped and I placed it in my basket. I could hear my farm owner's wife yelling names like 'Maria' and then words in english I did not understand.

"Valencia!" My head snapped at my mother's name. My mother slowly looked at the farm owner's wife and then I was following her to the lady.

"Valencia, your work level has been going down." The woman said. All I understood though, was 'Valencia your.'

"Marian, you've known me since we were twe-"

"It's Ms Janssen Valencia." What were they saying?!

"I think I have the right, Marian. I even let you name my baby Eleanor! And you knew I di-"

"Valencia, if you do not call me Ms Janssen you are kicked out. And you know how hard it is to find a job as a migrant worker. Even after the depression." My mother then gave me the 'leave now' look, so I left. I began to pick more grapes when...

"...huelga, huelga, huelgA, huelGA, hueLGA, huELGA, hUELGA, HUELGA, HEULGA!" I then turned to see tons of the people who worked with me screaming huelga**(Spanish for strike) **and holding up signs.

"Niña, ven y únete a nosotros." a woman yelled to me. I pointed at myself to check and she nodded again.

"Venga y únase a nosotros para que podamos obtener los derechos que merecemos." I was nervous...what if I got in trouble?

"¿No te gustaría tener una casa mejor, un cuarto de baño mejor, más dinero, más intimidad? Únete a nosotros y nuestra causa. Hacer lo que es correcto. Lo que es correcto para usted." She said again. I began to walk, before my mother grabbed my wrist.

"Tenemos que trabajar Eleanor." She said nervously. I nodded, and bent down for another bunch of grapes.

But I found myself wanting to join those people.

* * *

**Soo...who is James? Eleanor? Benjamin? Angelika? I think you know. Anyways;**

**"Young girl, come join us." A woman yelled to me. I pointed to myself to check and she nodded.**

**"Would not you like to have a better house, a better bathroom, more money, more privacy? Join us and our cause. Do what is right. What is right for you." She said again. I Began to walk, before my mother grabbed my wrist. **

**"We have to work Eleanor." She said nervously. I nodded, and bent down for another bunch of grapes.**

**But I found myself wanting to join those people.**

**REVIEW PRETTY PLEASE!**

**~ DG**


	3. Benjamin & Michelle

**Hey you guys! sorry for the late post :P I had writers blokc for Benjmin. **

**Words ya need to know;**

**beginnt - begin**

**morgen - tomorrow**

**drag - a bore**

**ankle-biter - child**

**back seat bingo - a makeout session in a car**

**Enjoy!**

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**Benjamin**

Many didn't know I was German, I looked completely white, the full blond hair blue eyed thing going on. But I was, and I purposely never told anyone, especially since World War II had just ended.

I left for a reason.

I kicked a small pebble on the pavement as me and my younger sister, Angelika, walked away from the large factory, wiping off soot. Angelika began coughing from all the soot and I patted her back. Angelika had asthma, she wasn't supposed to be around smoke. But it was our only way to get money, as young kids.

"Mommy said we'll... beginnt school morgen." Angelika said, switching out of German and english. I tried to teach her as much english as possible so they wouldn't find out.

"You ready?" I asked. Angelika nodded, her blonde pigtails swaying. We entered our home to see mom cooking over the oven, sweating. Her tired dull eyes looked at us.

"Did you get the jobs?" We nodded.

"A boy named James is going to teach us tomorrow after school." I explained. Mom gave us a wary smile,and we went up to our rooms. I entered and took off my large coat. I opened my curtains for light, but my eyes grew fearful as I stared at it.

No.

Months of torture, I thought they were gone, but as I looked at the two words scribbled on my window, they were all coming back. And as I covered it up and sat in the corner of my room, the words flashed in my mind.

_**Leave Nazis.**_

* * *

**Michelle**

"I'm nervous momma." I mumbled as my mom fixed my new yellow polka-dot dress.

"Just speak when spoken too Michelle." She said back. We got up and walked up the porch of a light blue house. My mom knocked on the door and a woman with red hair opened it.

"You're Mary, right?" The woman asked. My mom nodded.

"Yes, and this is my daughter Michelle." Her eyes flickered to me and I felt nervous. I tended to talk a lot, so I tried to keep my mouth closed. But when it was quiet, I couldn't take it.

"I'm Brenda. How old are you Michelle?"

"Fifteen ma'm." I replied. She nodded.

"Well Mary, let me show you around the house and what and what not to do." Mom followed Brenda towards the kitchen and I trailed behind, mouth agape at how beautiful it was.

"Hello." I practically jumped and turned to see a girl my age who looked like Brenda with the same hair, but green eyes, was standing behind me. I looked around to see if she was talking to anyone else.

"Um...hi." I said nervously.

"You're our help right? I'm Lisa. Brenda's my mother." She said.

"I'm Michelle. Yes, I'm your help." I said.

"Well, you wanna see my room?" I bit my lip.

"Um, I can't really...and I don't even know you-"

"You do know. C'mon Michelle." Lisa tugged me to her bedroom and I entered, shocked by how big it was. It was pink and white, a poster of Elvis with hearts drawn on it slapped on her wall.

"I really shouldn't be here Lisa-"

"Stop being such a drag. C'mon, I just got this new Elvis record. Wanna hear?" she popped in the disc.

After a while, we were talking like we knew eachother for years.

"And so I told Bradley, 'Your such an ankle-biter! Who'd have a back seat bingo with you?" I giggled at Lisa's story, before the door burst open.

"Lisa! What are you doing! I told you not to talk to them or leave your room!" Brenda schreeched.

"I'm sorry momma I just-" Lisa was cut off.

"No. Mary, get your daughter out of my daughter's room or your fired!" My mom hurrily pulled me out of Lisa's room, and after out of the house. In tears I tried to speak to my mother who was giving me the 'I've never been so ashamed' look.

"Momma, I'm so sorry I didn't kno-"

"Please be quiet Michelle. Just one thing, and you can't do it." And tears streaming down my face, I walked home.

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**Awwwww, poor Benjamin(Gazzy) and Michelle(Nudge)! See ya next with our last two POVs of this story; Arthur and Angelika!**

**Question; Should I add Nazzy and Arangel? *shrug* It honestly matters on you guys.**

**~ Jamie**


	4. Arthur & Angelika

**Sorry for posting so late you guys...New York is having constant tests and stuff...**

**So, next is Arthur and Angelika, our last two for today ^.^ **

**ABOUT THE LAST QUESTION: Alright, you guys chose only fax and eggy, but my friend Belle said "OMG BUT I WANT NAZZY AND ARANGEL!" So,there will be brotherly and sisterly Nazzy and Arangel. NOT KISSY KISSY KIND. **

**Kay kay! You may read!**

**Words;**

**Closet Case - someone to be ashamed of.**

**Greaser - a guy with tons of grease in his hair. **

* * *

**Arthur**

I got dressed for the day, making shure to slick my hair back with grease and fix my clothing.

"Hey, do I look good?" I asked my half-sister Maxine, who just rolled her eyes when she saw me.

"You look like a closet case." she said.

"Really?" I asked. Maxine rolled her eyes again, this time with a small smile.

"No, you look fine, ya greaser." She joked, before heading downstairs where our dad, Jeb was waiting. We were about to head out when dad took another glance at Maxine.

"Maxine? What are you wearing?" he asked. Maxine froze, and turned around nervously.

"Just a pair of trousers dad." she said. Dad pointed upstairs.

"No Maxine, only boys and men wear trousers. Now go and put on the poodle dress I got you." He scolded. Maxine growled before trudging upstairs and later coming back with fluffy dress on.

"Now, time for school." Dad said, pushing us in the ford.

I finally got to school, and everyone was hanging outside. I caught up to my group of friends fast.

"Hey Arthur!" said Jay, "I dare you to tell the nazi girl how it feels to be one." I raised my eyebrow.

"What?"

"Jay, Arthur doesn't know." David elbowed him.

"Oh. Well these two kids moved next door and it turns out their german. I wrote 'Leave Nazis' on one kids window. You should've seen his face!" Jay laughed. I faked a laugh.

"...so?" I urged.

"Oh," said Jay, "Well the nazi girl's in our grade, ya see?" He pointed to a girl wearing a dirty dress, "Now, I dare you to tell her." He shoved me. I gulped.

"But Jay-"

"Are you one of us or not?" He said, "If you were you'd do it by now." I shut my eyes.

_Forgive me. _

* * *

**Angelika**

"Hey look, it's Hitler daughter!" I heard a boy yell. I was surprised that I understood his words, but that wasn't on my mind.

I turned to find the boy pointing at me, everyone around him staring. I tried to hide behind a couple of girls, but they moved out of the way to stare as well.

"Hitler's daughter?" A kid asked.

"My friend was Jewish till you and your little nazi friends decided to show up. She ran away." A girl spat.

"You disgust me."

"Lets treat her like how she trested people. Hit her!"

"Punch her!"

"Kick her!"

"Burn her on the sake!" So many insults, such little words known.

Yet I knew the words that had hurt me the most.

"Guys, I think-"

"Guys-"

"Thats enough-"

"Please you guy-" I collapsed on the ground, sobbing. A couple kicked me before walking away. I looked up to see a sandy-haired kid staring at me.

"C'mon Arthur!"

And the kid was gone.

* * *

Poor Angelika...kay now THE BIG STUFF HAPPENS!

~ DG


	5. MAXINE & Fang - The Principal's Office

**Hey you guys! Sorry for the wait. Anyways, I wont answer questions till the end of the story, so it'll be one lil chappie of answered questions and stuff. 'Kay? Kay.**

* * *

**MAXINE**

"So, Mr McAuley, Mr Schmitt, Miss Batchelder, do you know why you are here?" The principal, Principal Morrison said. It had only been ten minutes into my first class when I was called to the office. There were two other in there, one a boy my age with orangey hair, and the other looking a year younger, with blonde spiky hair.

"No." I replied, "Would you like to tell me sir?" I made sure to put gallons of sarcasm into this. He seemed to give me a look.

"Let the boys talk first Miss Batchelder." He said sternly.

"I'm not sure sir." Said the orange haired guy. From talking, I could tell he wasn't from here, he had some sort of Irish or Scottish accent.

"Me neither." The blonde said. He had a tint of accent in his voice.

"Well, you all need help in school." Principal Morrison stated, "Mr McAuley-"

"It's James." He muttered.

"James, you have many absences, Benjamin, your learning level is low, and Maxine, you seem to be socially outcasted."

"It's been my second day! What do you expect?!" I yelled. He gave me a look again.

"Yes, but teachers said you haven't spoken to one person so far. And new children usually make friends quickly. Anyways, we're putting you all in a club."

"A club?" Benjamin asked.

"Yes, we contacted your parents, and they agree. It's an art club, and Maxine's father is making the small shack as we know. Due to this, Miss Batchelder will be in charge." He explained.

"When is this?" James asked.

"Every day after school at 3:30 to 5:00 at Maxine's house." Principal Morrison said.

"What's the catch?" I asked suspiciously.

"What? There's no catch." he replied.

"Yes, no man who looks this testosterone-filled voulentarily lets a girl be in charge of an art group." I said. He looked shocked I had figured him out.

"Okay, Lincoln school is joining you." He said. I raised an eyebrow, "It's a colored school." I knew that, my sister Ella(Her real name is Eleanor, but that name seems to much for so I just say Ella) went there.

"I know, and?" I said.

"Well, are you against that?" He asked.

"Obviously not." I said, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an English class to get to." I got up and left the office, hoping this club thing would end nicely.

* * *

**Fang**

"Do you know why you all are here?" The african american girl with curly hair next to me and I shook our heads to Principal Pruitt.

It was me and two other girls sitting in the office. The hispanic one didn't speak at all so far, she didn't look like she understood, so Principal Pruitt gave her a sheet of information typed in spanish.

"You all have something going odd with you. Fang, is it?" I nodded, "Seeing you today as well, this is the fifth time you've come home with bruises."

"Its-" I tried to explain, but Principal Pruitt cut me off, "The boys from Washington school. I'm sorry, but there's no prove to show it, so until then, you'll have to do something. Take a different route."

"There's only one." I said dully.

"One what?"

"One route. There's only one route to my home. I live at the reserve, remember?" I spoke quietly.

"Oh. Um, Eleanor here barely knows english."

"Qué?" The girl asked curiously, probably from hearing her name.

"You don't speak mucho español, si?" Principal Pruitt spoke slow and really badly at spanish.

"...Qué?" I sighed in annoyance.

"Hablas inglés?" The african amercan girl said, probably annoyed too.

"Un poco. Sólo los modales básicos." Eleanor replied, glad someone spoke spanish correctly.

"She knows simple things like manners." African amercan girl explained to Principal Pruitt.

"Michelle, you know spanish?"

"My friend is spanish, this is all I really know." Michelle said.

"And you Michelle, you came to school crying, is this correct?" Michelle looked shocked.

"How did you kn-"

"Anyways," he cut off, "Principal Morrison from Washington school and I were talking, and he also has three troubled students. We're putting you guys in an intergrated art club."

"What?!" Michelle and I said. Eleanor kept reading her paper, seeming really engrossed. She was most likely ahead of us.

"Why?" I asked.

"My mom wouldn't let me." Michelle said.

"Well we called her and she surely agreed." Principal Pruitt stated, "The club is every school day at 3:30 to 5:00 at this adress." He handed us each a sheet of paper.

"Mi hermana." Eleanor gasped.

"And our parents agreed?" Michelle asked.

"Yes, they feel it could help you guys. Now get going to class, I have other matters to attend to." And we were sent out of the room like that. I hoped this club thing ended nicely.

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**So, ya guys like it? Ask any questions, any ideas or suggestions are welcome!**

**REVIEW PLEASE!**

**~ DG**


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